


hate that you know me so well

by Acavall



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, and seungcheol pines so much he might as well be a forest in new jersey, jeongcheol are married, the fans are catching on, the members are frustrated, this is so cliche but thats what im in the mood for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11866647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acavall/pseuds/Acavall
Summary: Seungcheol wants Jeonghan. The group knows it. The fans know it. And it'd be great for everyone if Seungcheol could just god damn admit it.





	hate that you know me so well

**Author's Note:**

> I've been editing this while experiencing some pretty severe insomnia so apologies if I've missed any spelling errors. I'll come back and get them eventually.

It’s the VLive that brings the problem roaring to his attention.

Seungcheol is holding the second phone, skimming the comments, occasionally trying to pull names out of the whirlwind of updates that he can shout out to. He wants to give back to the fans, give them that moment, just for a second, that lets them know how important they are. That they matter to the group as much as the group matters to them.

He sees “Dokyeom I love you” and “Seventeen fighting” and “Hoshi take off your shirt” and then he feels a slight pressure on his shoulder and from the scent alone he knows it's Jeonghan.

Seungkwan is in the middle of doing some bit with Seokmin to the camera so Seungcheol doesn’t say anything, and then he hears Jeonghan’s quiet whisper in his ear, imperceptible to the camera, “Do you want some of my chicken?”

The slightest smile graces Seungcheol’s face, and he shakes his head. He’d had enough kimbap before the broadcast. He feels Jeonghan nod, and press into him slightly before he moves away, just a quick acknowledgement. It’s natural.

And then the comments change as he watches.

_“JEONGCHEOL”_

_“They’re so????? Married???”_

_“I can’t get over the sexual tension. When will they do something about it?”_

It’s that last one that throws him, and he’s not completely sure why. It’s not like he hasn’t seen comments about the various ‘ships’ the fans like to put him and all the other members in. It’s not like he doesn’t know about that stuff.

But it was just so-

So reasonable. Such a normal question. Not screaming, not flailing, not drunk on fantasy. Like something a mom would say to her friend while they watch you from the corner of the family gathering, half-loving and half-exasperated.

_"When will they do something about it?"_

Like whoever was asking has been waiting for a long time.

He feels like he owes the fan an answer, though what that answer could possibly be is unknown to him.

Seungcheol glances over at where Jeonghan is now sitting in front of the camera. His hair is being braided absently by Mingyu, and he’s laughing at something Soonyoung is saying. Something inside Seungcheol tugs at him. He wants to go over, wants to push Mingyu out of the way, claim Jeonghan as his own.

He always feels like that though. Sometimes he even does it. Is that sexual tension? Is that what they're seeing? 

They were up practicing until 4 am and it’s possible he just hasn’t had enough sleep.

But it sticks with him long after the broadcast.

 

*

 

Seungcheol decides to ask Soonyoung, because Soonyoung is always watching them, taking inspiration from their everyday movements to build into choreography. If there was anything to notice, Soonyoung would have.

Except that the performance unit is practicing overtime for a project they’ve been working on, and separating Soonyoung from his three dancing children is almost completely impossible.

Eventually, Seungcheol gives up the idea of getting him alone. This is a stupid question, and asking it in any way that denotes seriousness is ten times more likely to make the members think something is wrong.

Nothing’s wrong, Seungcheol tells himself. He is fine. Aggressively and completely  _fine_.

“Do you think Jeonghan and I have unresolved sexual tension?” Seungcheol asks the performance team eventually, as they stand around on a quick break, gulping down water and wiping down sweat with towels.

There’s a pause, an ever so slightly tense silence tinted by the distant sound of Seungkwan and Seokmin wailing somewhere else in the building, and then Junhui and Minghao begin to laugh like hyenas. Jun literally clutches at Minghao’s shoulder, says something in Mandarin to him, and it gets louder and more forceful.

Seungcheol looks at them in confusion, and then at Chan, and then at Soonyoung in turn.

“Sorry hyung,” Chan says, grimacing at the Chinese members in the vein hope that they might cut it out. This only makes them laugh harder, if that’s possible.

“It’s just,” Soonyoung adds, “That there’s this running joke about you two?”

“Between them?” Seungcheol asks, and when Soonyoung and Chan share a look, Seungcheol adds, “Between all of you?”

He’s pointing at the four of them, and when Soonyoung still doesn’t answer, he realises he means the entire group.

“What is happening,” Seungcheol mutters, mostly to himself, hands finding his eyes. Like if he can press hard enough, the darkness obscuring his vision will manifest as a black hole and take him away from this reality.

“You know what you two are like though,” Soonyoung tells him in a voice that he clearly means to be comforting. “You’re like, married. Even the fans notice. We’re all waiting for the inevitable day when-”

At this point Minghao hits him very, very hard in the stomach and Soonyoung cuts off.

Seungcheol  _knows_  what the fans have noticed, but he was hoping that the people who know him best might have something else to say on the matter. Something like “oh they’re just being fans”, or “no one thinks you’re pining, Seungcheol”, or anything other than a reminder that he and Jeonghan are about as close as two people can possibly be without getting naked with each other, and that maybe Seungcheol wouldn't be averse to nudity as the next step for them, and now he's kind of panicking thinking the rest of the group has been seeing right through him all this time.

“Wait, sssh,” Jun suddenly says, and the group falls silent just as Jeonghan and Jisoo enter the practice room.

“What’s up?” Chan greets them, a little awkwardly given that the entire performance team and Seungcheol are standing in a semi-circle not talking, and Jisoo gives him a funny look.

“I just left some stuff here, I’ll only be a second,” Jisoo replies. He leaves Jeonghan and moves over to the tables at the side, and Jeonghan comes over to lean on Seungcheol's shoulder, draping his arms over Seungcheol’s neck.

“Cheolie,” Jeonghan says, his voice lilting, “Carry me home?”

“I’m not going home yet,” Seungcheol replies with a sigh, feeling an unwanted smile creep over his face.

“Cheoliiiie, you owe me. You promised after last time you went to sleep with the music playing.”

Seungcheol turns in Jeonghan’s arms so they’re standing a little like a couple might, and the thought makes his cheeks flush, but only just.

“Next time we walk home together, I will, ok?”

_Very fucking subtle, Seungcheol. That'll show them all._

“Fine,” Jeonghan concedes, one arm slipping from Seungcheols neck to his side, the fingers of his other hand hooking into the neckline of Seungcheol’s shirt. “Are you going to be much longer? 'Shua wants us to watch a movie.”

He tugs on the fabric of Seungcheol’s shirt, fingers twisting in the cloth, and for a second in Seungcheol’s mind he wonders if Jeonghan’s fingers might do that if he kissed him. He pushes that thought away.

“I’ll be right after you, maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Ok,” Jeonghan grins, and lets go. He bounds off to collect Jisoo, a tornado rolling in and out of Seungcheol's existence just to drive him crazy. The two of them are gone within seconds, leaving silence in their wake.

Seungcheol realises with a creeping sense of dread that he now has his back to the performance team. 

“Do I want to turn around and see what your faces are doing right now?”

“Probably not,” Minghao says, and Jun snickers a little.

“Maybe just go,” Soonyoung adds sincerely, and Seungcheol nods.

 

*

 

It’s not like Jeonghan is the only face that comes to mind when Seungcheol gets a rare moment to spend in the shower without being rushed, and his hand wanders downwards.

He’s not the only person Seungcheol thinks of when he’s biting his lip and seeing stars, one arm braced against the cold tiles as he tries not to make any noise.

He mixes it up. Sometimes there’s an idol. Or a sports star. Or an actor.

It’s just, Jeonghan is the only person he actually knows. The only one he can bring to all of his senses as he comes with the rushing water, the called-up memory of Jeonghan’s scent and touch lingering heavily until well after.

Jeonghan is the only one he doesn’t just imagine in the heat of it all, but after too, thinking about how it might be not just to fuck but to fall asleep together, wake up together, go about their day – together.

He prefers not to think about that too hard.

 

*

 

They’ve been locked in a smallish room in the Pledis building for hours now, just the hip-hop unit, and Seungcheol’s brain is fried. He’s trying to write lyrics that just won’t come to him.

Or, they do kind of come, but only when he starts thinking about Jeonghan. And he’s not putting pen to paper knowing Jeonghan is now his muse or something equally terrifying.

Seungcheol sighs, staring at the unfinished sentence before him.

“Do I have… like do I have unresolved sexual tension with anyone?” Seungcheol asks the room, tone nice and casual, doing his best not to make eye contact.

“Oh, you mean Jeonghan?” Wonwoo replies, and it takes everything in Seungcheol not to choke on air.

“I assume he does,” Mingyu answers for him. “They always look like they’re about to run off to a honeymoon suite.”

Wonwoo’s low giggle follows, and Seungcheol finally looks up for the sole purpose of staring at both of them in horror.

“That's what we look like to the rest of you?”

Mingyu shrugs, and Wonwoo nods.

"You didn't know?" Wonwoo asks.

Seungcheol has no idea what the answer to that is. Did he know what it looked like all those times he pulled Jeonghan closer, sang to him, picked him up, fell asleep in his bed? More importantly, did Jeonghan?

“It’s just for the stage though, isn’t it?” Hansol chimes in, finally looking up from his notes, and Wonwoo and Mingyu look at him like parents gazing upon their child. Doting, but condescending.

“Oh Hansol,” Mingyu sighs dramatically, reaching out to ruffle Hansol’s hair. Hansol bats him away, his nose crinkling in indignation. “So young.”

“So innocent,” Wonwoo adds, and Hansol levels a blank look at him. He doesn't say anything though. Seungcheol always knew Hansol was his favourite.

“You can both shut up now,” Seungcheol mutters darkly to the other two devil kids.

“You asked,” Mingyu replies petulantly.

Seungcheol’s head sinks onto the table. He wonders exactly how long each member of the group has held this opinion of him and Jeonghan. Weeks? Months? Maybe even years? Did they discuss it together, or did they all come to the same conclusion separately? And why has no one ever tried to tell him?

He feels Mingyu patting his back.

“It’s ok hyung,” Mingyu says sagely. “Knowing is half the battle.”

Without raising his head, Seungcheol reaches out to find the now cold and half-empty plate of bulgogi nachos, and pushes it into Mingyu’s lap.

 

*

 

Later that night, Seungcheol is cleaning dishes in the kitchen when Jeonghan wraps his hands around Seungcheol’s waist from behind and presses against him.

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol asks, and he means it to come out all casual and affectionate, like he's not really bothered, but there’s this touch of breathiness to his tone that he wishes he could push down.

“You’re warm,” Jeonghan replies, his hands slipping into the front pockets of Seungcheol’s hoodie. “I’m cold.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just lays his cheek between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades as Seungcheol’s hands move over mugs submerged in soapy water.

Seungcheol feels the vibration first, before he hears that Jeonghan is humming. It’s an older song. He knows it well. The lyrics play in his head. 

_Whenever I face you, I try to tell you,_

_But I say the wrong thing, turn around and regret it_

_I’ll confess now, I’ve loved you from the start_

“I love this song,” Seungcheol sighs, sounding wistful to his own ears, and Jeonghan laughs softly.

“You’re such an old woman,” Jeonghan tells him. He pulls his hands from Seungcheol’s pockets, and Seungcheol feels the loss of warmth as Jeonghan moves away.

When he turns around to protest - the old woman comment or Jeonghan letting go, he's not sure which - Jeonghan has already left the kitchen.

 

*

 

Seungcheol loves watching Jeonghan sing. His eyes get so focused, his thoughts and emotions scrawled across his face as he concentrates on feeling the words as much as hitting the notes.

At least, when he’s being serious.

Today when Jeonghan meets Seungcheol’s gaze, he starts singing a little more dramatically, hamming it up for Seungcheol, making sure he knows he’s the intended audience. Seungcheol is sure he’s got the stupidest smile on his face right now, but he can’t help it.

When the song practice is over, Jeonghan proclaims he’s going to go make a coffee. He leaves the rehearsal room, and Seungcheol watches him go, goofy smile still lingering on his face.

He hears Seungkwan clear his throat, and looks over to see the other four members of the vocal unit staring at him with expectant gazes.

“What?” Seungcheol asks flatly, and Jihoon rolls his eyes, turning away to check something on his laptop.

“You know what,” Seungkwan says, arms crossed and hip jutting out like a caricature.

Seungcheol knows what. He just doesn't feel like he deserves this today. And honestly, when did every single member of his group even have time to form an opinion on the subject of him and Jeonghan?

“Don’t start,” Seungcheol tells him, tells all of them, and he sounds tired even to his own ears. He leans back on his hands. “Believe me, I’ve heard it.”

“Have you though?” Seokmin asks him earnestly, and Seungkwan nods in agreement. The two of them share a look, all knowing, like this is a constant topic of conversation in the vocal unit practice room. Which probably isn't true, given that Jeonghan would be there to hear it, but Seungcheol surely can't be blamed now for getting kind of paranoid.

“If you’d been listening to any of us, surely you would have done something by now?” Seungkwan adds. He sounds like a schoolteacher.  _I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed._

Seungcheol really would love someone to be on his side. He looks desperately at Jisoo, who just hold his hands up placating. “I said nothing.”

“But you thought it, didn’t you?” Seungcheol whines, and Jisoo offers him a consoling smile and little else. "You know, it's not that easy to just confess when you have no idea what the answer will be," Seungcheol adds in frustration.

He hopes his words might make them feel at least a little bit bad for all the shit they've been giving him, but now all four of them are staring at him in disbelief. Jisoo turns to Seokmin and Seungkwan. "You're right, he really doesn't listen."

“It’s annoying,” Jihoon puts in from behind his laptop. “You’re both annoying.”

“Helpful,” Seungkwan tells him sarcastically. He turns to Seungcheol, his  _'I know what I'm talking about'_  face firmly in place. “He just means. Hurry up?”

“I thought I was fast?” Jeonghan’s voice cuts in from where he is in the doorway, looking offended. “I was gone for like a minute, you guys need to chill.”

He’s holding two mugs, and he presents one to Seungcheol without comment, without having asked, and without expecting thanks. Like it was just completely part of his natural thought process.

It’s a hot chocolate, too. Because of course Jeonghan remembers that Seungcheol can’t drink coffee after three pm.

Seungcheol isn’t sure who looks more smug, Seungkwan or Jihoon. Though that’s almost better than the sympathy eyes he’s getting from Jisoo and Seokmin. Seungcheol kind of wants to throw his drink at all of their faces.

He decides to drink it instead.

 

*

 

There was this one time-

Well, there were a hundred times, if he’s being honest, but right now he’s thinking of this one time. They’d gotten back to the dorm at maybe five in the morning, and Seungcheol had been up making sure the other members were all in bed and not doing something stupid like deciding to turn this into an all nighter with some Overwatch or an impromptu anime session.

By the time he’d reached his own room, Jihoon had fallen asleep on the couch, and he wasn’t entirely sure where Mingyu had passed out but he had a sneaking suspicion it was in the bathtub, so their room was down to two. Jeonghan hadn’t even made it into his own bed since it involved climbing, he’d just flopped down on top of Seungcheol’s sheets.

“Hannie,” Seungcheol had whispered, but Jeonghan hadn’t moved. So Seungcheol had just slipped in next to him, and when he got comfortable he found the two of them were facing each other, their bodies an almost perfect mirror.

Jeonghan was fast asleep, lashes fanned out on his cheeks and breathing slow and steady, and he’d looked so peaceful, so beautiful. Seungcheol had been looking forward to hitting the mattress and going under as fast as possible, but instead he found himself just staring, his gaze tracing the lines of Jeonghan’s cheekbones down to his lips. There was this indescribable ache inside him, something that wanted him to pull Jeonghan close, to somehow claim every part of Jeonghan with an equal part of his own. He satisfied it a little by reaching out so that the back of his fingers brushed against Jeonghan’s, and he let his hand rest there so that they were just barely touching.

He’d finally fallen asleep with the sound of Jeonghan’s breathing in his ear, the feeling of static in his fingers, and the thought that he was lucky no one could see him looking.

He hadn’t realised that they had been seeing him every day.

 

*

 

It’s not that Seungcheol is a coward. When it comes to his group, he would dive off any building, jump through fire, fight ten lions.

But feelings, they were another beast.

So what if he moves slowly? So what if he doesn’t take the members comments and run straight to Jeonghan to confess his undying love (maybe with an offer of a blow job to keep it at least a little casual at first)?

He wishes he could tell his dumbass dongsaengs this. That he needs time. That he likes to do things his own pace. Even if maybe by the time he feels ready they’ll all be in their eighties. Does it matter? He can confess, Jeonghan can reject him, and he can go straight to his deathbed. It’s just being efficient.

Of course, he can’t tell them this, because now they’ve gone and locked him in the god damn recording studio with Yoon Jeonghan.

He’d been in there listening to a mix that Jihoon had asked him to take a second look at, and Jeonghan had come in to ask him about dinner, and then surprise fucking surprise the door suddenly would no longer open.

“I’m maybe going to kill them,” Seungcheol mutters, staring down at the door handle with intense venom.

“Them?” Jeonghan asks.

“Definitely. I’m definitely going to kill them,” Seungcheol insists. He tries the handle one more time for good measure, but it’s definitely locked.

“It kind of seems like you know what’s going on,” Jeonghan tells him, sounding very confused. Seungcheol sighs, letting go of the handle. He stalks back over to the mixing desk where his phone is lying, and calls Jihoon.

Jihoon, the lying little traitor, does not answer him.

“Seungcheol?” Jeonghan questions, because Seungcheol is maybe sort of ignoring him in favour of sending a fairly vicious message to the unit leaders’ group text threatening various levels of bodily harm.

When he gets a read notification from the others but no response, he flings his phone back onto the desk and finally looks at Jeonghan.

“Sorry,” he says, shoulders slumped in defeat. “This is sort of my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

Seungcheol has literally no idea how to explain what’s happening without launching into a full on confession, and he has no intention of giving his group of Satan’s own minions the satisfaction. Not now, anyway. Not after this.

“The others have been trying to- they want me- they’re playing a joke on me,” he finally settles on. That’s plausible. And sort of true. It’s just that the joke is his life.

Jeonghan looks more interested than concerned, which any other day would make Seungcheol want to scold him to be more compassionate, but right now seems kind of handy. “What kind of joke?”

“It’s…to do with the fans,” Seungcheol frowns. He figures a half-truth might be the easiest way to get through this. “You know how they talk about us? As in, you and me specifically?”

“Is that why you’ve been looking half manic this week?” Jeonghan asks, eyes wide. “Coups. You can’t let that stuff get to you.”

“I wouldn’t say it got to me,” Seungcheol half growls. “Everyone else did.”

“Everyone else?” Jeonghan frowns. “What did they say?”

“That we have unresolved sexual tension. And that it’s annoying,” Seungcheol replies dourly.

Something in Jeonghan’s face twists a little in surprise, eyes widening enough to be noticeable, and then he starts laughing.

“Annoying?” he hiccups out, grinning widely, and Seungcheol feels his own embarrassment melt into something a little more relaxed.

“Apparently,” he replies, a slight smile on his face. “Those kids are demons, Jeonghan.”

But he’s grinning now, and Jeonghan is too, and it’s his favourite feeling in the world, laughing with Jeonghan.

“That’s just ridiculous,” Jeonghan giggles, and then he adds, “We don’t have sexual tension.”

The laughter dies on Seungcheol's lips, and something in his stomach – well, it doesn’t drop. He’s not upset. He’s a little upset. Mostly, he’s kind of exasperated.

Because the thing is, of course they fucking do. Every single other person in the world has apparently seen it and been keeping notes. Has Jeonghan not realised that? Is he that blind? That clueless? God, Seungcheol is so done with this. If there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s being told he’s wrong.

He moves fast, he’s off the mixing desk in a heartbeat and pushes Jeonghan with one hand on his chest, crowding him into the window of the recording booth.

“What-” Jeonghan starts, but Seungcheol shakes his head and closes the gap, his lips finding Jeonghan’s with a force he didn’t really intend but that he does mean.

The heat between them is everything he's ever imagined. They're magnets, he thinks. Always pulling closer.

One of his hands finds purchase against the window, and he imagines they must look like a couple from a drama right now, and for some reason a thrill of excitement runs through him at that. Him and Jeonghan. Finally the main couple, if only just this once.

Because if this is all going to hell, Seungcheol is going to remember the feeling of Jeonghan’s lips, soft, a little chapped, tasting like lip balm and black coffee. He’s going to remember the way Jeonghan’s familiar scent seems to blanket him, overwhelm him, inescapable. He’s going to remember that tiniest of noises that escapes Jeonghan as Seungcheol’s free hand slides down his chest to his waist.

It’s rushed, a little desperate, he feels like he’s just gone over the edge of a rollercoaster. But he can’t keep going, even if his entire being is screaming for him to just take it and run. It’s not fair on Jeonghan, who hasn’t truly responded, which makes Seungcheol feel suddenly incredibly guilty.

Seungcheol pulls himself away with enough momentum that he has to take a few steps back so as not to lose his balance, but then he just trips on the office chair behind him and falls awkwardly backwards into it.

So now Seungcheol is sitting in the chair, face on fire, staring at Jeonghan who is leaning back against the recording studio window with his lips swollen and his eyes closed.

“Um,” Seungcheol says, when he catches his breath.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan murmurs, head tilted back and eyes cracking open as he looks down his nose at his leader with an unreadable expression, and Seungcheol shakes his head.

“No, listen, it’s just, what do you mean we don’t have sexual tension? Are you insane?” He crosses his arms against his chest, trying not to let the hurt he feels consume him as he falters over his words, desperate to understand. “Or it's me. I'm crazy. I am, aren't I. Oh my god, I guess you don’t like me like that. It was all just friendly on your part and I was projecting.”

He can’t bear to look at Jeonghan now, fixes his eyes on his shoes instead. “Everyone else thought… I thought…” Seungcheol stops, gets his voice even again, tries to come off as slightly less of a madman. He swallows. "Did you not feel that, just now? Do you not... do you really not feel the way I do?"

He sounds small all of a sudden, too small, oh god this is so hideously embarrassing. He’s going to leave. Well, he’s going to break the door first, and then he’s going to leave.

“Never mind,” Seungcheol sighs, standing up from his chair, but then suddenly Jeonghan is in front of him pushing him back in it.

“Not ‘never mind’,” Jeonghan murmurs, and he’s straddling Seungcheol’s thighs all of a sudden and is Seungcheol asleep? Is this happening? “Can I say something now?”

“Sure,” Seungcheol practically whispers, voice husky as Jeonghan's face comes perilously close to his again.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan grins slyly, and then he leans forward, and Seungcheol falls back into him like they never stopped. But this time, this time Jeonghan is pushing back at him, just as eager, just as desperate to be heard, to be felt, to be understood. His lips, his tongue, the way one of his hands finds Seungcheol’s hair and the other tangles in his shirt neckline just like Seungcheol had imagined.

It feels like the conclusion to a story that’s been written over thousands of pages. Like a lighthouse seen after months at sea. Like the first clap of thunder after a hot summer’s day. Seungcheol can’t believe how long he’s been waiting, wanting, until now finally he has this and it’s like he can breathe again.

“What did you- " Seungcheol finally asks, when there’s a second, and Jeonghan knows what he’s asking, but Seungcheol is going to say it anyway to be sure. “Why did you say there wasn’t anything between us?”

There’s this twinge in Jeonghan’s expression, so open and vulnerable at that second, with just a hint of fear. He shrugs, trying to play it off.

“Plausible deniability,” Jeonghan tells him. “In case you were going to break my heart.”

“Me?” Seungcheol asks in disbelief. His hand finds Jeonghan’s neck, his thumb running down Jeonghan’s spine. “Hannie, I’ve been running after you since day one.”

“It’s just, sexual tension isn’t the same as feelings,” Jeonghan elaborates, not meeting Seungcheol’s eyes all of a sudden, and Seungcheol reaches up to run his fingers along Jeonghan’s jawline. “Like, if you just wanted to sleep with me, I- ”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says gently, and he’s almost laughing at how ludicrous that is, that Jeonghan could possibly think this was just about sex. “I would love to sleep with you. And then I would love to make breakfast for you, and go on a date, lots of them, and bring you home for family events, and kiss you in the mornings and the evenings and hold your hand a lot and tell you I think you’re wonderful. Is that all ok for you?”

Jeonghan is watching him with something close to awe. He beams.

“I think I can work with that,” Jeonghan replies, and kisses him again.

It takes them another thirty seconds before they hear the banging on the door and the hollering from outside, like they're animals at a zoo. 

Seungcheol chooses to ignore it.

 

*

 

They’re backstage at an awards show, broadcasting as they snack in the green room.

Seungcheol is half listening to Hansol, half concentrating on the small circles Jeonghan is drawing on his back.

When Jeonghan leans forward over Seungcheol’s shoulder, his hair brushes Seungcheol’s cheek as he reaches for a chip. When he pulls back and brings the chip halfway to his mouth, Seungcheol leans forward quickly and hoovers it up.

Jeonghan freezes, staring at Seungcheol with an unimpressed look, and Seungcheol turns a little to grin at him, smugly swallowing the chip without breaking eye contact. He licks his lips, and Jeonghan’s expression turns… threatening. Like there will be hell to pay tonight. But in a good way.

Seungcheol turns back to his phone, eyes skimming the comments out of habit.

_“that look tho”_

_“WHAT IS HAPPENING RN”_

_“Can they just fuck already????”_

Seungcheol feels Jeonghan’s presence close behind him. He feels Jeonghan’s soft laugh in his ear. He leans back into him, and smiles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jeonghan was humming 'Drunken Truth' by Kim Dong Ryul because more cliches are always needed, and because I've listened to every version of that song in existence and am waiting on the day a Seventeen covers it.


End file.
